What if Jesus was aMotswana? But let ushold it there before youprescribe me psychotic medicationin the form of “Deliverance” accompaniedby an intensive “All-nightprayer.” Please pardon me, when Iam broke my mind tends to roameven beyond the confi nes of saneimagination. Generally I am a manof fragile imagination. I take it thatit was merely due to lack of spacein my Omang card, they would haveput it there in black and white.Even my school reports are thereto testify this beyond doubt to anydoubting Thomas.
They all agreeone thing; that I am astonishingly ofweak mind. You will therefore, pardonmy teacher for once describingme as “beyond repair.” This was aftershe struggled for months to teachme the alphabet and only to realisethat by the time we were on lettersDEF, I had forgotten ABC. I guessyou now all agree with her that describingme as “below average”would have been a gross misrepresentationof my academic disability.That said and done, did I ever tellyou that when I am broke, I becomevery religious? I do. I do not knowhow it happens, but every time mypurse runs dry I draw closer to God.I tell you, just try it, it is very therapeutic.If you were to see me sunkin that Holy book, going throughchapter by chapter and verse byverse, you will think I am a pastorin-waiting.
Thinking over what happenedlast night, I will be particularlyinterested in those verses thatcaution men about spending theirlast monies on females they do noteven know. Anyway, when you areimbibed in devil’s waters such transactionslook like sound investmentopportunities.You see, when I am broke, I alwaysmake sure I am the fi rst atchurch. I would clean the pulpit beforeI go to the pastor’s chair which Iwill leave glittering like gold. Fromthere I would sit in the front rowdirectly facing the pastor so that Ihear his every word and he hears my“Hallelujahs” well. After dwellingso much on how money is the rootof all evil, even citing that classictransaction that Judas Iscariot didon Jesus, you would think the pastorwould skip meneelo (offerings ) thatday, but alas.
Soon the 25 litre bucket wouldbe moving from row to row collectingwhat belongs to Caesar. Thatis when I will now change seats. Iwould go seat at the far end of thelast row, just to spare myself the humiliationof being broke. The pastorwould be consistently remindingthe congregation that no coins, onlycash and bank-guaranteed chequeswould be accepted.But all the humiliation I havebeen enduring is over now. I cannow take my rightful position in thechurch. I have come up with a masterplan. I have changed P20 in toZimbabwean Dollars and I am nowa billionaire. While others are givingout their cars and houses, I willbe handing out a hefty one millionZim-Dollars to the pastors.